Hours in DC

It was an early-morning flight to DC. Corinne and I were out the door and on our way through the dark and fog to the airport at 0330. Poor Corinne never gets any sleep - and my flight time was a particular bummer. It was good to spend time with her, for all that she is the "zombie mother" and I am hovering in the personality-free zone, occasionally riled into passion by the stress of trying to make this process work at a distance (phone calls, finding new doctors, new pharmacies). I also enjoyed the doodlers. At last they warmed to me and I to them. They made me happy.

The trip to DC was unplanned. I needed to root around in my storage unit and find an official document for a potential employer (of all things - my Masters' diploma. Never mind that they have my PhD diploma already in-hand). I couldn't stay long because I had a doctor's appointment on the 31st. So it was an 0600 Jet-Blue flight to DCA and a Delta-Skymiles fly back to Utah the following morning at 0700.

 Shelly was nice enough to pick me up at the airport in DC and I was irrationally happy to see her. She's a lovely person with a generous heart ready to invest. It's a rare person who shares freely and I was grateful for it.  We stopped for croissants and coffee before driving to the storage unit. I worried it would be a terrible ordeal, but I'd organized the place far more efficiently than I recalled. Even the bicycles were nicely lined up. So it was the work of moments to locate my file box, find the file, and send a photo image overseas. Afterwards we went to her apartment, dropped off my bags, then walked to a local Italian restaurant and bookstore in Dupont Circle.

Shelly had to leave at around 3PM and so I spent the rest of the day walking around the city in the misting rain. I stopped by the Natural History museum and ate dinner at my usual sushi joint before moving back towards Shelly's apartment.

In Utah and Florida I feel stifled, unclear. Foggy. It's difficult to make myself do any of my favorite things. When I was working in Italy and Africa, I felt on-fire, alive. I loved my work and it drove me. In DC, there's at least some passion and a sense of hope. It isn't as though my business or life was actually successful in the city, but there is such a feeling of promise - the certainty of something good and interesting right around the corner. I was glad to feel that again before I came back to Utah.

Dad picked me up at the airport in Salt Lake City and we drove straight to the doctor's office. It was kind and generous of him, but I was worried that the improperly-shipped medication had lost all efficacy. I hadn't visited a doctor since the baseline appointment. My anxiety made me short-tempered.
Dad said, "there's a guy in my choir - a physics teacher. I was telling him about you and he's agreed to go out to dinner with us. I figure it's always good to meet new people."
"Is this guy single?" I asked. "Are you trying to set me up on a date?"
"Well, yes," said my sweet father after a hesitation. "Its worth a try."
I should have put the pieces together, realized he was trying to solve the problem he sees me working on through these treatments. In his mind its so simple. But it isn't simple.
"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I can't. I'm sorry."

Today is day 10 and the numbers are good. Much better than the last go-around. I check in again first-thing tomorow. And then they decide.

Left side:

• 10.5; 11.2; 12.5; 7.4; 8.2; 12.9; 10.1

Right side: 

• 19.7; 20.4; 11.4; 7.8; 15.0; 16.7; 9.6

What shall we name you?